Campaign of the Month: October 2017

Blood & Bourbon

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Story Six, Mouse IV

“It’s me you need ta worry ‘bout now, Rat-boy. Me an’ Sue.”

Thursday afternoon, 17 September 2015

Mouse: Mouse’s ride back to his campus dorm is a thoroughly trying, humiliating experience. His lack of shoes, wallet, and phone make him feel naked. Three days without bathing, changing clothes, or sleeping on anything but a thin jail mattress leave him feeling sticky and dirty. He longs for a hot shower, clean pajamas, and the comfort of his bed. He tries to keep a low profile as he slips towards his dorm room.

GM: Students stare at Mouse with equal parts suspicion and disgust at his bruised face and ripe odor. Still, the recently released inmate fortunately manages to avoid running into campus police. His dorm room even proves fortuitously empty too, saving him the need to explain his present state to his roommate.

Mouse: Mouse’s first order of business is to lay out a fresh pair of clothes and take a long, hot shower. He brushes his teeth. He looks at himself in the mirror. Time to re-organize his life. He needs a new wallet, a new phone, and to organize his finances so he can pay off his newfound debt.

GM: After Mouse exits the shower and brushes his teeth, he is finally in a frame of mind to observe that the dorm room’s other half is undisturbed since he was last there. Books, bedding, and toiletries are appear in the same places they were left, and the refrigerator’s contents likewise appear unchanged (if several days less fresh). Mouse’s roommate does not seem to have been home.

Mouse: Mouse looks a little concerned at the sudden realization. Saturday. He hasn’t seen Trenton since Saturday. He remembers his roommate going out for the evening. Weird. He frowns a little—it’s an all too common expression for him lately.

Trent’s absence gnaws at his insides, and he just can’t quite banish the thought to the back of his head. He looks at the time and wonders if he should catch up with Becca. She knows Trent too. Some normal human contact would also be nice after getting beaten and humiliated for the last three days.

I’ve got too much on my plate, he sighs to himself, but first things first. He boots up his laptop, rummages around the kitchen for something to eat that isn’t sickening, and looks up how to handle a stolen bank card.

GM: A few Qeeqle searches turn up that Mouse can simply call his bank, report the debit card as stolen, and visit in person to pick up a new temporary card.

Mouse: Mouse gives a sigh of relief. That gives him some sense of direction. He picks up the room’s landline and dials his bank, going through the prompts.

GM: Mouse is uncomfortably reminded how that same landline will prove a further drain on his already-depleted finances if he does not disconnect it soon. Tulane (and most colleges) have been steadily phasing landlines out of dorms since the mid-2000s. He was still able to get one installed, but it’s another monthly bill.

A pre-recorded voice thanks Mouse for calling Whitney Bank in English, then says something else that sounds Spanish (“bar-iy span-yol, mas-kin-a-way-way”). He is given a list of numbers to press for various purposes. After asking to speak to a real person, he is put on hold for nearly half an hour before before he is able to do so. The bank employee confirms that they will cancel the card and issue Mouse a new one at his local branch.

Mouse: “Thanks!” he says, his spirits notably lifted by this first step in getting his life back on track. He’ll take the victories where he can. “When will I be able to pick it up?”

GM: “It should be in an hour or two,” the female-sounding employee answers. “Your new permanent card will take a few business days.”

Mouse: “Okay. Thanks! Take care!” He hangs up the phone.

Mouse then jumps on his computer to check up any emails from his classes or instructors. He’s been gone for three days and can’t afford to fail.

GM: Mouse finds one or two group emails his professors sent out to their entire classes. Beyond that, none have attempted to contact him. Unlike in high school, instructors will not hold his hand and he will pass or fail by his own initiative. That’s easy enough to do, though, as his various courses either detail their assignments in the syllabus or have them posted online.

Mouse: He works on catching up with his coursework and any outstanding assignments due. The comfort of doing something familiar and normal gives the young man a welcome sense of well-being.

Nonetheless, Mouse’s curiosity gets the better of him between writing essays and email replies. He finds himself googling black rights groups in New Orleans or on campus, toying with the idea of joining one.

GM: The most prominent (or at least talked about) black rights group Mouse finds is the national movement and Twitter hashtag Black Lives Matter, which anyone who’s not living under a rock knows was formed in response to the killings of black youths by law enforcement officers. A related group (and hashtag) is Say Her Name, which concerns itself more with violence against black women, especially those who are LGBT.

The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) shares similar goals. It is considerably older, being originally founded in 1909, though is not as talked about on social media.

All three groups have a presence in New Orleans. Ones exclusive to Tulane University (and solely concerned with serving the needs of Tulane’s black students) include Men of Color (MOC), and Tulane Black Student Union (TBSU).

The Black Panthers, a quick Wikipedia search tells Mouse, were dissolved over 30 years ago. The organization is little more than history now.

Mouse: Mouse half-ponders about writing a song to do with social justice and black rights; he considers videoing himself in his current battered state to give the video more poignancy. Perhaps post it online. Add the hashtag #blacklivesmatter. Maybe write up an essay on his experience, stir the pot. Mouse figures he can work on this song and essay for a few hours, a good way to burn up some time before jumping on his bike to get his temporary debit card.

Mouse is a bit saddened that his favorite guitar was smashed, but the young musician still has a few more guitars in his closet. He also messes around with the keyboard splayed at the bottom of his bed. The music is welcome. He can’t believe he went without it for so, so long; singing on his lonesome is certainly not the same. It certainly helped. But it’s not the same. The creature comforts a musician takes for granted, y’know? Mouse smiles to himself; mostly happy to be back home as he works leisurely on a song inspired by his own terrible experience.

The video he creates is impressive in an understated, raw fashion; his sunken, bruised eyes stare into the camera lens with a soulful intensity that’s difficult to describe other than doleful and reflective. His voice carries the same. It’s gentle, poignant, and quivers with emotion. The musical accompaniment is technically simple, but in a way that allows the listener to appreciate the strength of Mouse’s vocals. It’s oddly surreal. His features are wrapped in shadow and melancholy.

The music transcends that. It’s message is forceful and doesn’t mince words. The police and courts are racist and corrupt. There is a clear divide between the wealthy and the poor, mostly made up of racial reasons in Mouse’s music video.

Fuck the police! Mouse thinks to himself, finding himself becoming more and more embittered. Mouse recounts his experience in lyrical form, singing his tale.

GM: Mouse pours out all of his hurt and outrage into his laptop’s webcam. He gives it one last beaten stare, then finally shuts it down and uploads the video to MeVid. It will likely take some hours for most of the people on his subscribers list to view it, but Mouse is confident that he’s made something powerful.

Mouse: In the meantime, Mouse makes himself something to eat to replenish that lost creative energy. He sets about getting ready to leave for the bank to get his temporary card, planning to ride his bicycle there.

GM: The bike ride from Tulane to the CBD takes Mouse half an hour. The bank’s signature gray clock marked with “Whitney Banks” chimes at his arrival.

He obtains the temporary card from a teller without incident, but swiftly finds that he will have nothing to use it on. His bank account has been completely cleaned out by the thief and has a running balance of $0.

Mouse: It’s annoying to say the least. He tries to find the nearest ATM and ascertain how and where the thief managed to drain his account dry. Perhaps he can use that as a lead and uncover the man’s identity and whereabouts, hopefully getting justice for being robbed.

GM: As Mouse leaves the teller’s desk, the teller informs Mouse that there is a $30 fee for having his card replaced. Since his balance is $0, he is also charged an overdraft fee of $25, putting him at a total balance of -$55. Does he want to pay now or later?

Mouse: Mouse retrains the impulse to pull out his own hair and simply gives a disingenuous smile, stating that he will pay later.

GM: The teller informs him there will be a running overdraft charge for every day that his balance is in the negatives. He can also have his account closed for another fee.

Mouse: Twitch.

“No. It’s quite all right. I will pay later.”

He stiffly leaves the bank and gets back on his bike. He heads back to his dorm in an annoyed huff to get in contact with friends and family. He will also need to look into buying a bargain cellphone at this rate.

GM: Mouse rides back and arrives at his dorm room without incident, though he catches a few more looks.

Mouse: Thank God! he thinks to himself. The last thing he needs is to be hit by a car on his bike or for some gangbangers to steal it. He parks himself in front of his computer, searching for a good deal to replace his stolen phone. At the same time, he calls his Uncle Clarence on the landline to see about getting some extra cash for commission work. He imagines his older brother Francis has told Uncle Clarence about his troubles.

Mom is going to kill me! he grumbles inwardly. He hopes she doesn’t know.<

GM: A knock sounds against Mouse’s door.

Mouse: The dial tone only begins to sound before the knock on the door, and Mouse’s reaction is to quickly hang up the phone. He gets up and opens the door with an audible sigh.

GM: It swings open.

The man on the other side is tall, broad-shouldered, and barrel-chested. His features hover somewhere around middle-aged, with sun-blond hair just slightly receding from his ruddy-skinned temple. He’s dressed in a gray sports coat, a pressed sky-blue shirt that matches his eyes, and large gold belt buckle that depicts a bull’s-head on the center. The smile he offers Mouse is wide, fierce, and white, save for two flashes of golden teeth.

“Afternoon, son. Yer Mercurial Fernandez.”

The smile widens.

“Am I right, or am I wrong?”

Mouse: “You’re correct,” he replies, a little startled by the presence of the man in question. “I am Mouse.”

He stands at the door a little dumbly.

GM: The big man’s grin spreads some more.

“Yes you are.”

He steps into the dorm room and closes the door behind him.

“Ma name’s Bud.”

Mouse: Mouse is slim and hardly able to stop the man from barging in.

GM: “This here is Sue,” he says, patting the head of a blonde little girl whose presence Mouse didn’t notice. She wears a white sundress and brown cowboy boots.

Sue.jpg “Sue, be a doll an’ say hello to the nice man.”

Sue smiles up at Mouse. “Hi!”

Mouse: Mouse tries to put on a softer, more welcoming facade, but his bruised and tired face makes the look difficult to pull off convincingly. “Hi Bud. Hi Sue.”

A pause.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but I am in the middle of organizing stuff. It’s been a difficult few days.” This is directed moreso at Bud.

“What exactly is this about, anyway?” he asks, trying to straddle that fine line between politesse and figuring out what the fuck is going on.

GM: Bud clucks his tongue as he places a meaty hand over the shorter man’s shoulder and walks him away from the door. “Mouse-boy, aren’t ya gonna offer us somethin’ ta drink? It’s hot as sin out there.”

Mouse: Mouse nods numbly, disturbed by the large man entering his personal space so casually. He moves away and goes to grab a couple cups.

“I only have water and kool-aid,” he says, trying to get a read on the pair. “What did you want?”

GM: “Everything,” Bud answers with another too-wide grin.

It subsides into a mere smile after a moment. “But fer now, water will do jus’ fine, thank ya kindly.”

Mouse: “What about you, Sue?”

GM: “Kool-aid’s a nigger drink,” Sue pipes up.

“Now Sue, not in front o’ the nice man,” Bud chides with a wag of his finger.

Mouse: A chill runs up Mouse’s spine.

GM: “Sorry!” Sue smiles at him.

Mouse: Mouse chooses to outright ignore the little girl at this point. He pours a cup of water for Bud and stiffly hands it over.

“We only have plastic cups. Sorry. It’s cheaper, y’know?”

GM: “Mouse-boy. Didn’t yer mama teach you ladies first?” Bud grins, not taking the cup.

Mouse: “I think you should leave, Bud,” the young man replies. He looks up at the larger, physically imposing man with a frown on his face.

GM: Bud clucks his tongue.

Mouse: “Please.” Mouse places the cup aside and moves to open the door.

GM: Before Mouse gets the chance, Bud’s fist smashes into his gut with all the force of a sack of bricks. Gore rises in the already sick-feeling young man’s throat.

Mouse: Mouse dry retches and keels over as his knees buckle instantly. His eyes roll into the back of his head from the shock of the blow. He blacks out.

Thursday afternoon, 17 September 2015

GM: Something cold and wet sprays against Mouse’s face.

“Rise an’ shine, darlin.’”

Mouse: Mouse groggily squints his eyes and then opens them to that voice.

GM: Bud’s wide grin stares down at Mouse. His head lies against something cold and hard, and his stomach feels like it’s about to explode. The inside of his throat burns from un-expelled gore. He’s in the bathroom. Bud is holding the shower head. He switches it off. In the corner of his eye, Mouse can make out a body slumped over his bed.

“Ya know, Mouse-boy, I had pets rats once when I was a kid. Have ta admit they weren’t very good pets.”

Mouse: Mouse’s initial reaction is panic as he scrambles to his feet, attempting to get away from Bud. He flatly ignores the man’s psychotic monologue.

GM: “Couldn’t do a whole lot with ’em. Run away if ya set ’em down.” The big man casually plants a wide hand on each of Mouse’s shoulders and half-shoves, half-slams him back to the bathroom floor.

Mouse: Mouse screams, loudly.

GM: “But ya know what the part was that really got me?” Bud asks. He plucks up a bathroom towel and stuffs it into Mouse’s mouth. “That really convinced me they was shit fer pets?”

Mouse: His voice muffles, whimpering in obvious defeat.

GM: Bud holds up a finger in emphasis. “They bit. Not very hard. ‘Nough ta draw blood, though. So there’d be these lil’ flecks o’ red, scattered over the wood shavin’s.”

“That’s what you put in a rat’s cage,” Bud adds in a ‘by the way’ tone. “Wood shavin’s. Do it fer hamsters, rabbits, an’ guinea piggies too.”

“Guinea piggies!” Sue claps, kicking her cowboy-booted feet. She’s sitting on the bed next to the motionless body.

Mouse: Mouse’s eyes are wild with disbelief and fear; he can’t believe the little girl is still present.

GM: “Thas’ right, Sue, guinea piggies,” Bud grins. “Anyway, where was I,” he drawls, turning his grin back towards Mouse.

“Ah yes. Blood. Rats bite, see. Not always. ‘Specially not if it’s their own. But if they’ve a mind ta do it, they’ll bite anyone who sticks a finger in front o’ ‘em, if they feel like it. Don’ matter if it’s their owner or a stranger then. Can’t help it. It’s jus’ what God made ‘em ta do. But fer me it was a matter o’ principle. I fed ‘em, watered ’em, changed their cages, gave ’em everythin’ they could want, an’ still. E’en one out o’ a million times. They’d bite me.”

Bud leans several inches closer. Mouse can see his reflection glinting in the man’s two gold teeth.

“Rats, Mouse.”

Mouse: Mouse doesn’t know what to do except nod his head.

GM: “They don’t care none fer love. Fer hospitality. Fer their owner. They jus’ bite. We asked ya very nicely fer some water, Mouse-boy. Sue e’en said she was sorry fer usin’ that bad word too, now didn’t she?”

“I’m sorry!” Sue smiles.

Bud grins again. “That she is.”

“An’ yet, though we asked ya very nicely as yer guests, ya still bit us.” Mouse’s reflection numbly stares back at him from gold teeth.

“An’ that, Mouse-boy,” the big man drawls, “is the gander o’ why I’m now gonna call you Rat-boy.”

Sue claps her hands. “Rat-boy!”

Mouse: A muffled, apologetic sob is all that Mouse can manage in his current towel-gagged state. He cries out apology after apology. His eyes are watery. The young man looks at his reflection in Bud’s gold teeth and sees a pathetic, beaten kid staring straight back at him. It’s humiliating.

GM: Bud puts a hand to his ear. “Whas’ that? Ya ain’t gonna scream like a lil’ sissy if I take yer gag out?”

Mouse: Mouse shakes his head in affirmation to Bud’s request.

GM: Bud smiles and pulls the towel out of Mouse’s mouth.

Mouse: “No, sir. I am sorry.”

It’s unfair. It hurts. His pride takes a beating. Fuck this guy!

GM: “Yes you are, Rat-boy. Yes you are.”

Mouse: “I am, Bud. I am, sir,” he whimpers. “I am sorry, Sue.” He can barely look at the evil little girl sitting back and watching.

GM: “Yer sorry ya took a beatin’, not that ya been rude,” Bud drawls in a low tone. “But rats are rats, Rat-boy. It’s jus’ the way God made ’em.” He looks over his shoulder. “Sue, ya got the kidnap kit?”

Sue nods. “Uh-huh!”

Mouse: “Why are you doing this?” he asks in a small voice. “I don’t even know what’s going on.”

GM: “You be a doll then an’ do up Rat-boy’s friend,” Bud smiles.

Sue hops off the bed, her cowboy-booted feet hitting the floor with a thump, and disappears from Mouse’s sight.

Bud’s gold-spersed smile rotates back to Mouse. “So yer a man o’ business too, Rat-boy, gettin’ right down to it?” Bud clucks his tongue. “Well, okay. I’m a businessman too.”

“Ya bit Bert Villars’ finger, Rat-boy, jus’ like ya bit mine. On top, he ain’t so sure ya can pay yer legal bills. In fact, he’s pretty sure ya can’t.”

Cluck-cluck-cluck goes Bud’s tongue.

“Me, though, I’m a believer in people. I think you can pay, Rat-boy, if ya jus’ put yer mind to it like yer mama told you.”

“He’s sold yer debt ta me. Ya don’t need ta worry no more about payin’ him back. It’s me you need ta worry ’bout now, Rat-boy.”

His gold-tinged grin widens.

“Me an’ Sue.”

Mouse: Mouse’s brain twitches a little; he feels a part of himself break at that sudden twist of fate.

GM: “Now, yer debt is $2,000. I’ma-gonna charge ya 10% interest a week, compounded weekly. Compound,” Bud states with emphasis, “Means it, lesse, ‘builds off the cumulative sum owed.’ Makes the math look all funny. Yer min’mal weekly payment is $200.”

“An’ that, Rat-boy,” he declares with another too-wide golden smile, “is what Sue an’ I are here fer today. $200.”

Mouse: “I don’t have $200 on me!” he protests, his features numb with fright.

GM: Bud clucks his tongue. “They ne’er do, Rat-boy, in ma line o’ work. They ne’er do.”

Mouse: “I can pay you, though!” he exclaims. “I just need to get it!”

GM: “Uh-huh, that there’s another thing they always say. It’s like rats an’ bitin’. They jus’ do it by reflex.”

Mouse: “Does everyone in your line of work go to Tulane University?” he asks. He still looks frightened. “I can pay you!”

GM: “Rat-boy, I came ta this room fer $200, an’ I don’t mean ta leave this room without $200.” The big man shrugs. “Or I could break yer hands, I guess.”

Mouse: Mouse starts crying, clearly not wanting his hands broken. “I can pay you!” he begs more and more desperately.

GM: “But can ya pay me without leavin’ this room, Rat-boy?” Bud clucks.

Mouse: “I can!” he exclaims. “I only need to make a phone call!”

GM: “Well, Rat-boy, you are free as a bird ta make a call, but I sure hope you don’t plan on invitin’ any folks over. It ain’t turned out too well fer yer bud.” Bud grins. “Yer other bud.”

Mouse: “Thank you!” he says. He tries to get up and head for the phone.

GM: Bud’s thick hand lightly presses his chest down. “Ah-ah-ah, now.” The big man reaches inside his pocket and produces a phone of his own. “What number are we callin’, Rat-boy?”

Mouse: Mouse gives Bud the phone number to his uncle’s auto-repair shop.

GM: “Ya know,” Bud clucks, “we’re goin’ about this like a ma hen lookin’ fer her eggs when it’s omelets fer breakfast, I do reckon. Sue, there any ‘lectronics, credit cards, other things yer darlin’ lil’ eyes can make out?”

Mouse hears tiny booted feet striding around the room. Hands clap. “Guitar!”

Mouse: “No! Please!” Mouse sobs.

GM: “Yes, that’ll do jus’ dandy, I reckon,” Bud smiles.

Mouse: “I can pay! I work for my uncle!” Mouse feebly whines.

GM: Mouse sees Sue dragging the guitar by its end up to the bathroom. She smiles up at Bud.

Mouse: “Be careful!” he says, looking at one of his beloved Ashton acoustics.

GM: “Let’s check how much this thing is worth,” Bud drawls, pulling out his phone. “Lesse, price o’ cheap guitar…”

“Ah yes,” he nods after a moment, “that should jus’ about do it.”

Mouse: No! He used that guitar in his first gig. His mother bought him that for his eighteenth birthday! Mouse can only close his eyes and let the tears fall freely.

GM: Bud picks up the guitar with one hand, then slings the motionless male figure in blue jeans over his shoulder. Mouse barely catches a glimpse of the youth’s face before Bud turns back around to face him.

“Okay, Rat-boy, yer in the clear fer this week.”

Mouse: Mouse can only remain in a crouched position on the ground as he watches Bud and Sue leave his dorm room.

GM: He clucks his tongue again. “Sue ma doll, if I’m not off ma mark, we’re gonna ‘tract ourselves ’tention like a fair’s prize hog, carryin’ this boy ’round. Ya checked the kidnap kit?”

Sue nods. “Uh huh!”

“Routine #9?” the big man grins.

“#9!” Sue smiles back. She offers a thumbs-up.

“That jus’ dills ma pickle, Sue.”

Mouse: “Please!” he asks. “Don’t hurt him!” He tries his best to be brave. It’s only a small voice that comes out. He remains crouched on the floor.

GM: Bud doesn’t smile this time. He laughs. It’s a rich, thick, belly-deep sound that sends his whole stomach a-jostling.

“Ya volunteerin’ ta take his place, Rat-boy?”

Mouse: “No.” He whimpers some more and hugs himself on the floor.

GM: The laughter dies. The smile returns. A scared, defeated little boy stares back from Bud’s gold teeth.

“I didn’t think so.”

Bud shifts the motionless body over his shoulder.

“Oh, one more thing. Go ta yer brother o’er this an’ I’ll kill ’im.”

Mouse: Mouse shivers at the genuine threat; he nods his head numbly.

GM: Sue waves at Mouse and gives him a big smile.


Thursday afternoon, 17 September 2015

Mouse: An hour after Bud hustles him for his guitar, Mouse simply drinks a couple glasses of water and stares at his computer screen as he searches up good deals for a new phone. He’s numb and uncharacteristically quiet. He’s cleaned himself up, but he still feels dirty.

A more determined, angry frown appears on his face as the minutes tick on by and the anxiety begins to fade from his body. He won’t stand for this. He looks into applying to join The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, Men of Color, and the Tulane Black Student Union.

GM: Mouse finds, to his chagrin, that joining the NAACP isn’t free. The following membership options are available:

$30.00—Annual Adult

$750.00—Silver Lifetime

$75.00—Lifetime Subscription; 10 Annual Installments of $75

Mouse: Mouse swears under his breath. It seems to him that money is the biggest issue on his plate.

He looks up his MeVid video and begins putting up a Patreon page, creating a link to the NAACP on the video’s description and adding a link to his own Patreon to help generate some funds for himself.

Concurrently, Mouse looks into the two other groups on Tulane’s campus, wanting their details and means to join them.

GM: Mouse finds that his video has already attracted thousands of views, hundreds of likes, and more comments than his browser can fully load.

i watched this video so many times

> same

> yeah me too

i hate cops

please do a part two

> lol get beat by police again

It’s sad had true this is. I get chills. He needs a part 2. They still have permission

Accept Jesus Christ before martial law and New world order

How does this not have 1 million views yet ???

> yet

Smh now look … This video is so much more prevalent now

added to favorites

This Video is more Relevint than ever now.

this song is like a drug

I’m the only who got scared? that shit scared the shit out of me

is this real?

> no

i am literally in tears


Was a Black Female raped by The C.O.P if so could someone provide a name.

this honestly makes me cry

My cousin was shot and killed be cause he was holding a Wii remote and this song’s about him and i thank you for it not because of him but for everyone. It’s really sad when people do nothing wrong or follow what people say but still get killed. #copkill

> I’m so sorry for youre los

> G-d bless him Rest in peace

> the officer didn’t have a clear visual of what was in his hand, why did he even come out with a remote anyway he could’ve just left it inside, sorry for your loss by the way it wasn’t the officers mistake not all of them are bad I want to be one when I grow up

> Officer Freddy the officer did it before too when a woman was opening her backpack and the officer shot her. her computer had stuff about how she heard voices so it kinda was the officers fault and i know that not all of them are bad but there are some bad ones and he was in the middle of hooking up the wii after watching saw2 so he asked the officer who it was and no response and so he opened the door and he got shot for A NONVOILENT WARRENT FOR HIS FATHER. HIS FATHER IS A NO GOOD SCUMBAG WHO MISSED COURT SO NONE OF IT WOULDNT HAVE HAPPEND IF ITWASNT FOR HIM


Only fools fight the police.

Good song but sad as shit and I’m only 10

Ta’Aliyah brought me here

Fuck the police man when I grow up I might just kill all cops

this is soooo deep :O :O

man , the government just laughs at us ! FUCK THE MURDEOUS POLICE! >:( justice for all ! fuck capitalism FUK EM ALL ! whos wit me ! we could change the world ! fuk what dormer says ! BUILD THE WALL ALREADY DUMB BITCH " ! we need to rebell & start a WAR !

Everybody please share this video

love it!!!

This Man is so Amazing! He needs to do a part 2! I listen to him like 10 times! I can’t get enough of him! I wish he would do more Songs and Updates! I hope I can meat this Man and just Shake His Hand! Great job and keep doing You man don’t listen to what Anybody says You keep your Head up and do what YOU THINK IS RIGHT! :D

for god sack be Americans and do something about this just like you did to the british fight back with words or actions

this Video is so true

lol nigger turns head into punching bag


follow your heart this video….. D:

faved x10000

fuk the police

This is so fucking good like fuck man all these cops just doing this bullshit and the people that say all lives matter I mean it’s true but when the black community is just getting killed and beat because they have a different skin color like really and I forgot the guys name someone tell me and forgive me for forgetting I’m gonna find out his name again after I put this but his fiancé recorded the aftermath of him getting shot in his damm car because he reached for the gun permit the fucking cop asked for and he actually told the fucking cop about it but nah since he’s black he can not be actually doing something good like really. His fucking kid was in the car and if you think anyone would really consider putting there family in danger so when people say ohh the cop was protecting himself shut the fuck up the cop was a racist kid man it just makes me angry man I really hope we can fix this shit

This video doesn’t show what happens before the cops shoot or beat this boy, he is by no means innocent and he committed some sort of crime or violation and did not comply

> fuck fucking pig

Some cops are such a d*** they need to grow up

when i see innocent people being attacked i feel really sad like this poor guy :c but i couldnt care less for thiefs or murderers they deserve to die =u=

> A thief deserves to die? Taking something that doesn’t belong to you is reason for you to lose your life? Jesus christ kid, don’t EVER, EVER become a cop. Or anyone in power, for that matter. You’re just as much of an asshole as these cops.

Nazi’s i hate this country Dormer and Underwood go to H#@$

Good job,you are doing so well!!!

Dry up funding for police. They no longer are protecting us. There are just too many bullies.

> And the military is giving cops their surplus combat gear! SMH.

> Stupid. You’ll be the first one crying when the cops don’t show up fast enough to help you. Lol.

> +Carmen Mezzo you’re a pussy for not being able to defend yourself

> your mom’s yelling for you to get out of the basement—dinner’s ready.

> ^ Classic liberal retort.

Support: HA HA NIGGER!


GM: POLICE are AT WAR WITH AMERICAN CITIZENS are guns are the only thing we have to defend ourselves with



GM: > Blue lives matter!

I do not see anything particularly strange. The police must protect themselves. Sometimes they exaggerate a bit ’, but it is understandable because it is a job that puts a strain on the person.

Support: > Some people just want someone to blame for their own mistakes.

GM: I wish dis vid had more than just 800k views. Da world needs 2 c dis.

Why is there no full videos before attacks start?

No doubts why Dormer hates Niggers


GM: i have watched this so many times and i still cried of anger to the cops and now i feel ashamed of being here

fuck the police

Support: I hate being white.

GM: I’m not black but fuck this black and white shit. We should all just end this fucked up bullshit. Why can’t we be a society. Black people are trying and so are most white people but those messed up people are the ones in charge. Then it creates a rift between are people. Not all cops are bad but the ones that are keep fucking up are whole community. Fuck Rob dormer, the whole fucking police department that keeps killing potential leaders. We could’ve had the next tupac or Shakespeare or Albert Einstein but we’ll never know will we, because people are dying left and right. For anyone who reads this, I’m no cracker or wigger or any labeled white person. I’m a human being with a voice and a brain and my brain is telling my mouth to create my voice that says we need to stick together. I find this gruesome and disgusting but our whole community, not just blacks, or whites, need to step up and stand up against this bullshit. We need each other. Acceptance is key. :)

y’all some weak ass bitch mother fucking pigs u weak ass fucking sissy’s. you ho as fucking bitches maybe I should join the police then I could shoot all u fucking pigs are beat y’all like u do us weak fucks

I love this vid A cop took my uncle life for nothing

Some cops are nice but most cops abuse their powers and it pisses me of

> Djengo Russell yeah some actually just want to do their job and protect people .. but the bad ones mess it up for everyone

Support: Oh man I could masturbate to this



GM: This stands for the right that us Black people have it makes no sense that Cop doesnt gets suspeneded for beating a innocent black man

Support: i fapped to this

GM: all the dislikers have to scratch rt

Support: play stupid games win stupid prizes

GM: Its not that police lives matter, its not that all lives matter, its that black lives dont matter. They only changed the “black” in “BLACK LIVES MATTER” to ALL or to BLUE. Pigs are only “BLUE” 40 hours a week while us black people are BLACK 24/7 365. So for people who say “all lives matter” they really dont because everyone is not getting killed by police. And for people who say “blue lives matter” they really dont because they are not the ones being killed on they daily.😡

Support: it was at this moment SJW #1 realized, he fucked up

GM: This gave me the chills

lyrics made my cry

Tried to donate a few bucks for making the song but found no way to do it! Whats up with that?

> Theres a patreon u idiot

> Wasnt when he posted idiot

Now that is what I call creative.

I cried…….. D:

there should be laws punishing these cops 10 fold what a civilian would many cops abuse their power it makes me sick.

Support: I can’t believe that the police are attacking all of those nice, peaceful, non violent leftists! (Sarcasm Off)

GM: fuck the cops specially american cops they are fucking pig

> it’s time we kill all the fucking pigs

I guess a lot of people might not know this. This is how the government enforces the rules. The government owns everything you own nothing. That is why you pay taxes on everything. Public property is not your property it is government property. The police are granted the rights to use deadly force to protect government property. The few people in government run the world get use to it. Follow the rules and climb to the top. Break the rules and you might end up dead. >=]

Support: if u dislike this video go fuck ur self

GM: Where is the police brutality? I don’t see any. I wish we had these police officers in my country! These civilians is so arrogant.

> Someone’s mother didn’t give them any attention as a child I’m guessing >_< lol

Support: So sad to see people getting abused by the police because they don’t know their rights. You are a soveriegned citizen. If you get yourself incorporated under the law the police can’t touch you. Check my link at


> how i incorporate

> You click the link n get a virus

> ur gonna get raped

Support: > Yeah right, this guy is just trying to deny you your rights. This is how they scare you sheepe into being sheep

I want to have your mixed babies.

GM: > I wanna kill em :D

they really earn the hate don’t they.11


Not enough watermelon.

GM: > ten melons fo $10 LAWDY IS I IN HEAVEN?!?!?! :O

Support: This is what happens when you give a monkey a camera.

GM: That’s the reason they are trying to disarm the civilian population.That way no one can defend themselves from this kind of government allowed police brutality. As far as I can tell if any of these victims were armed they had every right to shoot these COWARDS…

> there was only one victim

> cops victimise EVERYONE!

Support: > WAY TO MISS THE POINT. This is a song about the suffering of everyone. It’s an aleogory.

Am I the only one that thinks he’s super cute?

GM: lol I still wanna be a cop. fuck off. they are a few bad apples in the police but not all are only ignorant people believe cops aremall bad. also if I were to witness the beating of a cop I would personally beat the shit out of the one beating.

Support: Typically black way. Commit a crime then cry about it. He’s probably some damn “thug nigga” bitch that got shown his place. Cry more!

GM: > hes gonna get shot n a week

> he will be a MARTYR…………..

> he didnt die

We need a sequel There’s been many more life’s that been took’n yur the voice bet it would go viral so everyone can see how it is -Nothing makes us different from these pussys

Support: Hey guys, I think I found him.

GM: > friend me

> me toooo

> Im sending cops to yor house….. >:D


> Lmao. He looks like a pussy.

GM: > your pussy

Support: > I sent you a friend request. You should call me sometime, we could go out.

GM: > Gon get RAPED

> Gon get loooved tenderly

this really just brought me to tears #blacklivesmatter

You have to remember there are still good cops out there and the news only puts the bad ones on there people in my family are cops there not bad people

> Not all cops are bad but there are a lot that are. On the news I’m not even seeing most police brutality, most of it is only shown on social media. And you could only wonder why …

this is so heart breaking my sister has asma that was heard to watch😢😢😳😟

Support: This is why black people dserver reperations.

GM: I wanna become a cop so i can slap dis nigga and get away with it. Fuckin cry baby

> hes speaking the truth tho

> You a bitch, if you was to become a cop I’d kill yo bitch ass for him pussy


GM: goose bumps all up and down my arms .. this is so relevant .

Support: I can’t ever understand your struggle as a cis white male, but I totally feel for you.

GM: we need 2 kil the military……

Support: This is white privilege.

GM: I Love This Video ITS so true and it’s still happening today And he said when we start shooting back we shooting to kill and that’s what they doing so it is what it is eye for a eye f*** how you feel

Support: But did you die?

GM: > He didnt die lol

Support: > Then why is he cry like a bitch?

GM: > after he put this video out did he get shot……?

> no

Support: > Yes.

This was my cousin and it was the last thing he ever made before the police kicked down his door and killed him. This is what it is to be black in AmeriKKKA.

GM: watched again n again gives me chills


Support: Man, that’s so fucked up. Beating up a black gay dude.

GM: > ….=(


> hes not a woman

Support: Bye Felicia.

GM: facts

Support: > Facts. He’s a fucking criminal.

GM: Not all cops are bad most people know that but what I don’t understand is how there are so many fucking corrupt cops man makes me disappointed in my country.

This shit has been happening since the 90s, people were outraged then (for about a week or 2) then they didn’t care, and nothing happened to help the situation, let’s actually make changes this time around #blacklivesmatter

Support: bro you got beat like rodney king.

GM: I love to see cops getting killed. Payback pigs.


GM: i criied watching this video . cause its a shame that this is truu . #blacklivesmatter .

Small song, massive impact, respect

no lie hes so dope :)

Support: i cant wait for the day that we rise up and kill al lthe white people for the shits they have done to us to keep black people down they are afraid of superior black men and just trying to keep us down

GM: > down n the fields! back 2 work nigger!


> those fine white bitchs though.

GM: #NojusticeNopeace

fuck the popo




Mouse: Mouse reads over the comments in disbelief. “Wow.”

He reads some more. “Wait. I’m not gay! Fuck you!”

He reads some more. “Wow.”

He looks at his Patreon page.

GM: There are no donations yet, but Mouse has only just set it up. Judging from the MeVid comments, there is a clear market for his page.

Mouse: Still, early days. Mouse smiles weakly at some semblance of good news, desperately clinging to anything good at this stage.

GM: A comment pops up on his MeVid video.

kill all niggers

Mouse: An annoyed frown forms on Mouse’s beaten face at the comment. He gives it a quick thumbs down in retaliation. “Take that!” he says with indignation as he closes the video.

Mouse then continues looking into Tulane’s black student unions, means for joining them, and what they seem to offer.

GM: Mouse is able to pull up the websites for both organizations in short order:

Mouse: Mouse flits through the websites and is disappointed to find no contact information. He is pleased, however, to find information on what each organization stands for and that they’re open to membership with the only proviso being that he is a student and reflects their values.

He grabs the landline, dialing the number to his Uncle Clarence’s chop shop once again. His stomach lurches at the memory of Bud knocking at his door, but he quickly quashes the memory. He needs money and Uncle Clarence is the only one he knows that could have a job for him.

Reality is, Bud’s an asshole—but he’s a fucking scary asshole. Mouse doesn’t want to poke that bear. Though thoughts of petty vengeance do cross his mind.

Money first, the young man thinks to himself, ruefully.

GM: The phone rings several times before picking up. “’Lo?” greets an older man’s thick voice.

Mouse: “Uncle Clarence!” Mouse chirps, relieved to hear his voice. “It’s Mouse! How are you?”

GM: “I’m all righ’, kid, how you doin’?” Clarence asks his beaten and extorted nephew.

Mouse: “Shit. If I am being honest.” Mouse expands, “I got robbed, my bank account drained, and I need money for bills… was hoping you needed me for a job or something…?”

GM: “You got robbed? At Tulane?” Clarence asks, mostly disbelievingly, but also like he’s trying to keep a guffaw out of his voice.

Mouse: Mouse laughs. The idea of getting robbed in Tulane is funny. “No. I got robbed in Jackson Square while busking for money. Some short, weird guy picked my pocket. He drained my bank account.”

Mouse sighs, the memory leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Almost as sour as the memory of being beaten to a pulp that followed shortly after.

GM: “Aw, that’s some tough luck,” the older man grunts. “Anyway, you know we gotta work fast when there’s a job. No more’n a few hours. So don’t got nothin’ now, but tell you what. When there is a job, I’ll know who to call.”

Mouse: Mouse suddenly gets a bit nervous, but desperation calls. “Don’t tell Francis, but I was thinking that I could help out with… another job… y’know, um, if one comes up. Do you think I should talk to Dontell about maybe helping ‘get cars’?”

GM: “Dontell’s got other things on his mind these days, now that we’ve taken over the Rosebush. It don’t run itself. Mainly your brother who does the cars now.”

Mouse: “Oh.” Shows how much Mouse knows.

GM: “Hang in there,” his uncle states in farewell.

Mouse: “Okay. I will.”

GM: The line clicks.

With his promised job pending, and his Patreon page just put up, Mouse has little to do but wait.

Mouse: Mouse isn’t the type to wait idly while depending on others to save his ass—he only does the latter. He gives his big brother a phone call.

GM: Mouse rings several times, but Francis does not seem around to answer his cell. Resigned, but knowing he has a great deal on his plate, the college student returns to his coursework and the matter of his outstanding court fees. It’s dull, plodding work, and various MeVid videos about police brutality directed at black men offer enticing distractions. By the time Mouse has caught up with his assignments, the fat Dixie sun hangs low in the pink-hued sky like a swollen peach. Mouse fixes some dinner, unwinds watching a movie, and gets ready for bed. His bruised face still hurts, as does his pride.

At least he’ll get to spend tonight in his own bed.

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